I was seventeen when I first heard The Prodigy. Fat of the Land it was. I loved it okay, but didn't think much of it otherwise. I listened to it all the time, but didn't think much of it otherwise. It was always on - when I was coding, when I was surfing.
Then college happened. I got to hear a lot of music that I hadn't heard of before, and I loved all that. There was so much of it. Oh my god I love all the awesome bubbles.
Eventually, as the shine wore off, the leather started introspecting. More, and more. The itch became red. The doctor said, "You're addicted, and we don't have a cure. Best if you go back to your Poison".
So I did. But turns out that I'd unknowingly had had so much of it back then that I remembered every beat, every turn, and it didn't give me the high that I had been on all those years. Too much sunlight can make you blind. So, well, I tried listening to the newer Prodigy albums. My god they suck*. The band really did live upto their name.
So then. I was an addict who realised that there was no more of the stuff that I was addicted on. There is no other music like that. Nowhere. There is much better. There is much worse. But there is no more of that. And the credit does not go to the band, no sir - no human could have made that stuff. It was divine intervention. Some of you uppity-puppites will at this point argue that anyways it was not musical talent, it was all drugs. Well, sir, then maybe the scientific community should be searching for the particular cocktail of drugs the blokes were on when they made the album instead of going about doing their incremental progress. Why peer down an insect's ass when you can be God?
Eventually, I survived. I still don't listen to them. I realised that back then I was coding/surfing a lot so that I had something to do when hearing the music - not vice versa (which, arguably, is something still true for the newer shit I'm on). I'd even say that I have completely moved on. Infact, some rare times, when an old playlist comes back to life, I can even feel _it_ again. Guess why I wrote this node.
I will now take leave, leaving you with an axiom: If I was in World War II, they'd call me spitfire.
* Before people start nitpicking, let me clarify. I am not saying that Fat of the Land was their only good album. They produced outstanding stuff before that, and a few excellent songs after that too. What I am saying is that it was the peak that never could regain. Must have really pissed off them too - having been shown the light and left back on earth to fade away.